


for now that is enough

by grapehyasynth



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Depression, Drabble, F/M, FitzSimmons - Freeform, Jemma POV, Missing Scene, No Fluff, Panic Attack, jemma simmons defense squad, like none i'm sorry, short lil piece, shortly after maveth (first go around)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-21
Updated: 2016-04-21
Packaged: 2018-06-03 16:17:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6617491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grapehyasynth/pseuds/grapehyasynth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I've been having all kinds of Jemma Simmons Defense Squad feelings today (some of you may have seen my post on Tumblr) and some images and phrases from this piece stuck in my head and wouldn't shake loose. Super short drabble. Shortly after Maveth, Jemma struggles with learning to live again while also trying to figure this whole Fitz thing out.</p><p>"He crosses the room to her and she feels the mattress dip as he sits on its edge, not touching her. She closes her eyes. They had been out for a walk several hours ago when she had another panic attack. It was far from the first and she couldn’t imagine the day when it would be the last. Fitz had calmed her down, as he has learned to do, but it left her drained in every way and he had brought her back to the apartment before he had to leave for a meeting with Agent Weaver. (He had tried to stay - he would cancel everything for the rest of his life if he had to, she was sure, if that was what he needed to do to care for her.)"</p>
            </blockquote>





	for now that is enough

She knows Fitz will assume the worst when he enters the apartment they are sharing for the week and doesn’t find her on the couch or in her room. It only takes him a minute, though, before he comes to his own room and stops in the doorway. She can hear him sigh in relief. She is lying on his bed, on top of the covers, her arms tucked under her head, turned towards the wall across which she has watched the sunlight slowly migrate. 

It has been two weeks since he brought her back from Maveth. Coulson sent them to the Academy, knowing she needed a change of scenery and knowing she needed Fitz by her side as much as he needed to be there. They couldn’t go for a real vacation, as the dangers were too great and Fitz remained too much of a resource, but at least here they had this apartment to themselves, with windows and paintings and silence when they wanted it, music when they didn’t. 

He crosses the room to her and she feels the mattress dip as he sits on its edge, not touching her. She closes her eyes. They had been out for a walk several hours ago when she had another panic attack. It was far from the first and she couldn’t imagine the day when it would be the last. Fitz had calmed her down, as he has learned to do, but it left her drained in every way and he had brought her back to the apartment before he had to leave for a meeting with Agent Weaver. (He had tried to stay - he would cancel everything for the rest of his life if he had to, she was sure, if that was what he needed to do to care for her.) 

As if to learn to live again, not merely to survive, in this world that is now alien to her, were not enough, she has to run every day through the same thoughts which trap her and remind her of her own unworthiness. She had loved Will, yes. She had loved him like you love every person before you meet your soulmate - in a way no less true but not comparable by any measure. Except she had done it out of order, having her soulmate and taking him for granted. She knows that now, but still the words will stick in her throat. At some point since she was sucked into the monolith - somewhere between the dehydration and sleep deprivation and depression and fearing for her life every second of every day and developing a new relationship with her body as it became her enemy and her only hope for survival - she had forgotten how to talk to the people she cared about, if she had ever known. She’d sought the words, so many times, wanting to tell Fitz that loving Will was loving the moon because you’ve forgotten the warmth of the sun. But the words turn to ash on her tongue and she is always left staring at him, mouth open, the awkward pauses reminiscent of his own recovery a year before. 

She doesn’t have the words yet. When she manages to admit it to herself, she’s afraid she never will. But for today, when he places a hand on her shoulder, she covers it with her own and hopes for now that is enough.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on Tumblr! I'm grapehyasynth there as well. 
> 
> Also I promise I'm still working on Three Years and the Chuck AU, these lil tidbits just come to me sometimes and I can't escape unless I expunge them onto the page!!


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